


Good Night

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Blood, Could Be Slash Or Close Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Winter Soldier, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1607348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fast, thready pulse fluttered against his fingers, an indication that Steve was still with him, still fighting. In relief, his pain finally catching up with him, Bucky collapsed next to his friend. His human hand sought out Steve’s, his fingers wrapping around the blonde’s. As his eyes slipped closed, Bucky murmured, “Good-night, Steve.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a death fic... or it could be... it really depends on how you interpret it. But I wanted to try my hand at writing an 'Open Ending' story. So, please enjoy!
> 
> Thanks for reading, drop me a comment if you have the chance, and I don't own these characters.
> 
> Bye!!!

Blood pooled around the two men, staining the stark, white floor. Bodies littered the room, some unconscious, most dead, but neither man paid them much attention.

“Help’s on the way, Steve,” Bucky murmured into Steve’s hair, the taller man’s weight solid and warm against the brunet’s side. “Just hang on.”

Bucky knew not all the blood belonged to Steve, his own vision graying around the edges, but he also wasn’t deluding himself into thinking Steve wasn’t worse off. Even Captain America couldn’t instantly heal bullet wounds, Bucky knowing that information firsthand, and it still left a nasty, bubbling pit of guilt in his stomach every time he thought about it.

Pushing his dark thoughts away, Bucky turned his attention back to Steve. “You awake?” He didn’t expect an answer, but his stomach still clenched with worry when he didn’t get one. “Steve.” He brought his mechanical hand up, resting it against Steve’s face, gently stroking the blonde’s cheek with his thumb. “Steve, wake up,” he whispered, trying to forget a time when he would have used the same hand to crush the life from his unconscious friend.

“Bucky?” The word was spoken so softly, he had to strain to hear it, but relief flooded Bucky at the sound of his name, a half laugh, half sob forcing itself from his lips. He leaned his forehead against Steve’s and said, “Yeah, punk, I’m here.”

Slowly, Steve opened his eyes, letting them skate across the room before resting on Bucky’s face. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, weak, trembling fingers touching the side of Bucky’s head, blood staining Steve’s fingertips.

“I’m fine, Stevie,” Bucky murmured, his thumb still moving across Steve’s jaw, needing the contact as much as Steve seemed to need it. “I’m fine.”

“Y-you haven’t called me S-Stevie since I-Italy,” Steve commented in a breathy voice, his fingers moving from Bucky’s cut to his cheek.

“T-that time that dame punched Dum-Dum,” Bucky recounted and both men chuckled at the memory. Steve’s laugh broke off into deep, rattling coughs, and panic shot through Bucky. He flashed back to another time, a much smaller Steve coughing the exact same way. Except this time, he didn’t have bronchitis, this time he had a bullet implanted in one of his lungs.

But, just like before, Bucky murmured in his ear, “You’ll be fine, Steve. Just breathe through it.”

When his coughing died down, Steve sagged against Bucky, his hand falling from the smaller man’s face, his eyes falling shut again. “I’m… I’m sorry I-I let you fall, B-Buck.”

“What?” Bucky brought his other hand up, cradling his friend's head between both his palms, and softly said, “That wasn’t your fault, Steve. I-I have never blamed you for that.”

“I-I just need… need you to k-know, just i-in case…”

“Hey.” Anger tore through Bucky, and he gently shook Steve, the blonde’s eyes popping open again. “You’re gonna be fine.” He accidently slipped into his old, Brooklyn accent, but Bucky ignored it as he continued, “Help is coming, ya hear me.” Bucky forced a smile, gently stroking Steve’s face again with his human thumb. “B-besides, ya can’t leave me with Stark. We’ll kill each other.”

“I-I’m tired, Buck,” Steve whispered, his breath warm against Bucky’s face, his eyes closing a third time. His breath stuttered for a second, his entire weight sagging against Bucky, and it took the brunet’s quick reflexes to keep Steve from sending both of them to the floor.

“Steve.” Bucky brought his human hand up again, gently tapping Steve’s face. “Steve, wake up. Steve!” Bucky curled his metal hand into a fist, pounding it into the ground, cracking the white tile. Shards flew up, but he ignored the pieces, breathing deeply.

He could pinpoint the exact second The Soldier took over. Gently, he lowered Steve to the floor, swiftly getting to his feet. He picked up his gun, having abandoned it when he dropped next to Steve, and stalked across the floor. He stopped next to a prone figure, a Glock sitting next to the man’s hand, blood pooling around him.

Bucky knew the man was dead, having killed him mere moments beforehand, but The Soldier needed an outlet, and this son-of-a-bitch shot Steve. Standing over the man, The Soldier flicked the safety off his gun, and empty the rest of the clip into the body.

The moment the gun clicked empty, The Soldier dropped it, falling to his knees, Bucky taking control again, his vision fuzzy. Slowly, he crawled towards Steve’s unmoving form, forcing his weakened body to keep moving, stopping within touching distance of the blond. Bucky’s human hand hovered over his friend, trembling as he lowered it, his fingertips resting against the side of Steve’s neck.

A fast, thready pulse fluttered against his fingers, an indication that Steve was still with him, still fighting. In relief, his pain finally catching up to him, Bucky collapsed next to his friend. His human hand sought out Steve’s, his fingers wrapping around the blonde’s. As his eyes slipped closed, Bucky murmured, “Good-night, Steve.”


End file.
